KNOXVILLE — Hollis Pratt had nearly finished laminating the Sunsphere elevator’s “out of service” sign when he noticed a cloudy patch near the corner and pulled his chair back up to the kitchen table. He had already put his glasses away, which aggravated him.
The retired maintenance hand had rejected a replacement his wife, Brenda, found at an office supply store. The lettering looked cheap. “See how skinny that is?” he said, holding the package against his shirt. “You’d think they could put a little more ink on there. I told her to keep the receipt.”
Pratt worked the cloudy spot with the edge of a grocery store rewards card. A folded dish towel kept the sign from sliding. Brenda said he had asked her to look at it under the stove light, although she thought it looked fine where it was. She had been trying to use the stove.
“He’s particular about anything from down there,” she said. “Every time we’re downtown he points at it and wants me to look. I’ve looked, Hollis.”
Asked whether the elevator itself was running, Pratt said he wouldn’t know, he only did the sign. He lifted the corner toward the window. “Moisture gets under here,” he said. “You can mash it down and think you’ve got it, then it comes right back cloudy. Let me get this edge.” He rubbed his thumb along the seam and inspected it again. The original lettering remained clear beneath the plastic. Pratt said he liked to keep it looking decent, with it being for the Sunsphere.
Brenda moved his sandwich to the end of the table.